Night Out
by Lady Lanera
Summary: This is the companion piece/sequel to "Night In," but it's Dean's side. Will Jody and Donna get Dean to admit the truth finally?


**A/N: **You're going to recognize some dialog from 14x18 "Absence", 14x19 "Jack in the Box", and 14x20 "Moriah." If I missed an episode reference, let me know please. Also, this features Johnny Cash's song "God's Gonna Cut You Down." It was inspired by Soledad's fanvid "Dean & Cas||You can leave if you really want to" and AngelDove/DemonDove's fanvid "Dean and Castiel – I'm going Home." I may have had those two vids on repeat in the background the entire time writing. Many thanks to DaughterOfAres for helping me make Dean... Dean. As always, enjoy. :)

**Night Out**

A simple milk run. That was how Dean described it to his brother and Cas before he left. In reality, though, it was the farthest thing from the truth he could get. He had invited himself earlier on the phone to a hunt with Sheriffs Mills and Hanscom, and Jody and Donna just didn't seem to have the heart to argue. Or maybe it was for some other reason. He didn't know. He really didn't care either. It got him out of the damn bunker for a bit, and that's all that mattered in the end.

As another tape finished, his second or third by his count, he yanked it out and tossed it into the box, snatching another and quickly replacing it. Anything to kill the terrible silence around him these days. The ladies hadn't said a word since they left. Normally, he'd be a little concerned by that, but he was too lost in his own mind to really pay attention to details. As the first lines of the first song blasted out and echoed around in his head, he drew in a sharp breath, his fingers curling in a strangling hold around the steering wheel. He'd apologize to his beloved Baby later when they were alone.

_"You can run on for a long time . . . run on for a long time . . ."_

And wasn't that what he was doing currently? Running yet again? He clenched his jaw angrily, glaring out at the deserted Kansas road. He could almost make out the lights of St. Joseph off in the distance. By his estimate, if he continued straight through the night, they'd arrive sometime late tomorrow night in Charleston, South Carolina.

Sammy he could understand. The kid always was smart and could see through his bullshit, but Cas—Cas shouldn't have. Dean didn't want him to see through it ever because then the angel would know the truth, the ugly and messy truth that even Dean didn't want to see half the time.

_"So, what, then? You're just going—" Sam yelled._

_"They need my help, guys!" Dean shouted, glaring back. "Me! Not you two!" He then scoffed, shaking his head. "I mean, seriously. You want me to tell Jody and Donna, 'Sorry, can't go. You see, my brother and guardian angel get horrible separation anxiety when I'm gone.' Yeah, that ain't happening."_

_"I'm just saying, Dean—"_

_"Hey, you guys want to sit down here and let the rest of the world go to hell while we figure out a plan to beat God, go ahead. All the power to you. But I'm going. Whether you two like it or not." He turned to leave._

_"Dean!"_

_"No, Cas!" he growled back, green eyes flashing dangerously as he glared back at his angel. "This time you just sit there and shut up and let me do what I have to do." He then whirled towards his moose of a brother. "You too! No arguments! I'm going. End of discussion. So, you watch the bunker. Cas, you watch over Claire. And, Jack," he scoffed when the Nephilim stepped into the room, "you just don't do stupid shit like these two. Everybody understand their assignments? Great." He snatched his bag from the table and rushed up the stairs past the confused ladies as they stepped inside with Claire._

Dean's hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.

_"Sooner or later, God's gonna cut you down,"_ the low voice of the original Man in Black rumbled through the speakers before Dean stopped it and ejected the cassette. No music sounded good right about now. Every song, every cassette, just enraged him further, even if it was just the Ramones or one of Sammy's stupid Celine Dion crappy cassettes. How that got mixed in with his, he hadn't a clue.

Dean briefly closed his eyes and shook his head. Wasn't that the truth, though? That God would cut them down sooner or later. With all that they had gone through over the years, it had to be God, freakin' God! They had only gotten away from Amara by the skin of their teeth. How the hell were they expected to defeat the Almighty Powerful Dick of the Universe?

Up ahead, he noticed a relatively empty gas station. He glanced down at his gas gauge and sighed heavily. He probably could make it a bit further, he supposed, but he needed to get out and stretch his legs. The ladies probably had to do the same as well. He turned off into the station's driveway, gradually slowing his Baby down before he threw her into park and killed the engine.

"You ladies need anything while I'm in there?" he asked, glancing at the two silent sheriffs.

Jody and Donna shared a look briefly before they shook their heads.

"Nope. We're good."

He huffed a mirthless laugh and nodded. "Yep. We sure are," he drawled bitterly before he threw open the door and gently closed it. After all, what was the entire gates of Hell being thrown wide open and everything they ever sent there being out again? Right?

He filled Baby up in more silence, frowning when he noticed Jody and Donna had their heads bent towards one another. That never boded well for him in his experience. He sighed, though, and waited, turning away from them. They likely had been plotting the entire drive about how best to approach the big elephant in the Impala. Not that he blamed them. The ladies were kind. It was nice knowing they cared so much. Just not when their attentions were directed on him. When the pump clicked off, he glanced at the dollar amount and shook his head.

Kicking up some dust, he headed into the store soon afterwards. His green eyes darted away instantly when the young kid from behind the counter instantly stood at attention. The kid's eyes, he noticed, were painfully blue. He wondered if Chuck was doing it on purpose now just to mess with him some more. After all, it wasn't like the dick didn't know, was it?

He reached into one of the coolers and grabbed himself an energy drink and two waters for the ladies before he turned and grabbed three bags of chips as well. When he walked up to the counter and dropped it all on top, he grabbed a beef jerky strip from the side and added it to the pile.

"That all for you, Mister?" the kid asked quietly, glancing at him warily.

"That and the fuel." The kid's head jerked silently before he keyed it into the register. Dean glanced back out at his car, shaking his head when he noticed how animated the sheriffs had become in their discussion. That'd certainly be a treat to walk back into for sure.

"It'll be $65.19, sir."

Dean nodded and turned back, sliding his card into the chip reader. When he heard the beep, he removed the stolen card, thankful that it had went through. That was all he needed at this point.

"Have a good night."

"Yeah, you too," Dean replied reflexively, grabbing the now bagged items from the kid before he headed back. He dropped himself into Baby several moments later and handed the bag over to Jody, who took it without question. He then reached towards the ignition to start his beautiful car up, only to find the keys missing. "What the hell?"

"Exactly our thoughts," quipped the soft voice beside him. "Now, we've let you cool off, so—"

"Out with it, Winchester, before Jodes and I decide to smack you upside your pretty little head."

"Where are my keys?"

Donna held them up before she quickly moved them back far from him.

"You've got to be kidding me," he groaned. "We don't have time for this."

"Actually, we do."

"But what about the vampires killing—"

Jody sighed heavily. "There aren't any vampires in South Carolina, Dean."

"Well, there might," Donna interjected. "Just not our kind of vampires."

"Not helping, Donna," Jody remarked, giving the blond a hard look.

"What?" Dean blinked, his head whipping between the front and back seats to both of them. "But you said—"

"Yeah, about that. You're actually interrupting girls' weekend," Jody admitted with a shrug. "You may be used to hunt after hunt after hunt, but . . . we needed a break. All of us."

"But Chuck's—"

"The zombies—or whatever—have stopped. There actually hasn't been an attack in a few weeks now. Nothing to apocalyptic levels at least. So, Rowena and—"

"Rowena?" Dean repeated, his eyes widening. What did Red have to do with this?

"Yes, the very same. She and Jo suggested we all head over to South Carolina and meet Charlie to have a bit of a girls' weekend."

"Why didn't you . . . but . . . you said . . ." He huffed, shaking his head. His tongue pressed firmly against the inside of his cheek as he inhaled sharply. "So, what, you ladies wanted me to play chauffeur then?"

"You said you needed a break, and Claire's been telling us how tense things have been in the bunker lately between you and Castiel. So, we thought—"

"Wonderful," Dean scoffed. "Claire's in on it, too. That's just perfect. I mean, here I am actually, you know, wanting to save people, and all you want to do is run off and have a good ol' time, sticking your head in the sand. Awesome. Glad to know—"

"You done?"

"No!" Dean yelled back, glaring at Jody. "It's like everyone's lost their damn minds, I swear," he muttered aloud. "I mean, come on. We save people. That's what we do. But seems like I'm the only one doing it lately while the rest of you are—"

"What happened, Dean?"

"Nothing."

"Yeah, we're not buyin' it. So, come on. Out with it. What happened?"

"Nothing."

"All right. Fine. Then I'm calling that sweet angel of yours," Donna replied with a shrug.

"NO!" Dean sighed heavily when he saw their eyebrows shoot up. "Please, don't. Just . . . leave it alone. All right? Please?"

Donna and Jody glanced at one another before they turned back.

"No. We can't. Not this time," Jody stated. "Not when you're both hurting—"

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "Cas isn't hurtin'. He's got Jack back. He's never been happier."

"You didn't see the look on his face when you shouted your orders at him before leaving."

When he opened his mouth to give yet another bullshit excuse, Jody beat him to it and cut him off almost instantly.

"No, Dean. No more excuses. No more lies. Out with it. What happened? What has you so damn scared that you'd act like this?"

"I'm not scared," he huffed, glancing out the windshield.

"Yeah, if that's not the biggest pile of malarkey this side of the Mississippi, I don't know what is," Donna replied sarcastically with a raised brow. "Something has you running. Now, come on. Tell us. Let us help."

"Help?" Dean snapped back, his head whipping around. "I don't need help. I've got it. I'm handling it."

"Not well," Jody remarked beside him with crossed arms.

His frown deepened instantly as he turned and glared out the windshield. What did they want from him? The truth? Yeah, fat chance of that happening. He drew in a slow, even breath before he scoffed once more.

"Dean—"

He threw open his door, though, and stepped back outside. He knew there wasn't a chance they'd give him back his keys anytime soon. And the silence—it set him on edge these days. Worse than it had ever done during his Mark of Cain time.

He didn't respond, though. He just pulled his jacket closer around him to stave off the chill in the air he hadn't noticed earlier. He needed to get his head on straight. He knew that. Hell, the ladies were offering to help him do just that, but they didn't understand. They couldn't.

Kicking more of the gravel underneath his boots, he sent up a cloud of dust. Talk. Let others in. Share your secrets. Yeah, that just wasn't in his wheelhouse really. He heaved another loud sigh, shaking his head when he caught the huffed steam of his breath wafting around. It was getting colder rather quickly, it seemed. It wouldn't be long before it snowed, he supposed.

_"Dean?"_

He shook his head violently to rid that particular voice out of his head. It was a memory, he knew, one that he didn't want to recall. Not ever.

He glanced back over his shoulder and noticed the Impala was still parked at the pump. The ladies hadn't moved. It was as if they were just giving him some more space. But he was tired of space. He was tired of a lot of things lately actually.

Veering off to his right, he ducked behind a building, his back falling against its side. His hands came up to cover his face. He drew in several deep breaths, hoping it'd calm him again. But, like usual lately, he felt worse than before. He glanced upwards at the stars overhead.

Thick clouds from the west were rolling fast in, almost unnaturally, blocking his view. He closed his eyes and shook his head. This was a conversation long overdue. Ever since the graveyard. Ever since Jack died at Chuck's hands. Ever since he had . . .

_"Now, I know you don't like it. So, either get on board or walk away."_

He shivered viciously, drawing in another shaky breath.

_"Cas, step aside."_ He felt the adrenaline course through him, returning to that moment in his head. He had been so angry then, so convinced that he was going to do the right thing, that he'd avenge his mother, that it'd be good again. "_Step aside!"_

Dean clenched his fists at his side before he looked upwards again. "You son of a bitch!" he screamed, glaring at the heavens. He didn't know if Chuck was even listening or not. He didn't care. "Well, are you enjoying it now? Your brilliant masterpiece complete with all the heartbreak you've forced on us over the years, where everyone we live dies for nothing but to destroy us bit by bit?" His eyes darkened as his jaw clenched.

_"You're dead to me!"_

His chest constricted at the words said in anger. Words that he knew he could never take back.

_"Dean?"_ the low voice murmured in his head again as the memory from before returned. _"We were a family. I didn't want to lose that." _Cas . . .

The eldest Winchester brother dropped to his knees. His hand covered his mouth as tried to hold back the tidal waves of emotions that had been beating against his insides since that day. He shakily breathed, trying to push it all back. It kept at it, though, relentless as Michael had been last year locked in his mind. He sharply inhaled a moment later, green eyes darting upwards.

"Fine. You know what? Fine!" He pushed himself up, jaw clenching painfully now. "Fuck you, Chuck! Fuck you and all your—I'm done!"

He angrily stormed back towards the Impala, glaring at the little snowflakes that had surprisingly started to fall since his leaving. He caught Jody and Donna's surprised looks when he threw open his door a moment later and threw himself inside like a sack of potatoes.

"All right. Fine. Let's get this over with, shall we?" he spat. "You want to know what the hell it is?" He didn't wait for their response before he plowed forward. "Sit back and enjoy the freak show that is Dean Winchester then, ladies."

He drew in a deep breath, his heart thundering in his ears.

"I told my best friend, my first and only one I've ever had, that he was dead to me. We've been through Hell, Purgatory, everything—betrayals, you name it—but in one moment I tell him he's dead to me because in that moment all that mattered was my mom."

"Dean . . ."

"No," he cut in with a fierce shake of his head. He had to get this out. Maybe not to Cas yet, but he'd trust it with Jody and Donna for now. Until he could work up a more eloquent way of apologizing. "Did you know he went up to Heaven after I ordered him to find Mom? He didn't question it. He didn't argue. He didn't tell me what a dumbass I was being. He just went." He pushed back that memory, trying not to recall the look of heartbreak on Cas's face. "Time after time, I treat him like shit. And time after time, he comes back. Even now, I nearly killed Jack. His kid! I called . . ." He shook his head. "He's been reaching out to me ever since to fix this, and I keep pushing him aside. Because we have bigger things to worry about. Like his dick of a dad trying to end the world." He slowly ran his tongue over his lips as he drew in another breath. "I'm his weakness. Ishmael—the bastard—flaunted it in our faces a few years back. Because Cas—oh, that dumbass—he can't let me go." He then glanced at each of the ladies. "And the pathetic thing is . . . I don't want him to. I don't. I'm scared of the day I finally drive him away. I drove everyone else away. Why not him? Sammy—he couldn't get away fast enough. And then—what do I do—I pulled him back fifteen years ago." He exhaled shakily, glancing down at his cassettes before he forced himself to look back up. "In one instance, poof, Chuck could take Cas away. I used to be able to push aside, carry on, like my dad could, but then . . . then this son of a bitch angel comes walking into a barn, all righteous and powerful, telling me I mean something, that I deserve to be saved. And the crazy thing is . . . I believe it. Only when he says it, though. No one else. Because he means it, and I know it."

He sighed heavily, glancing back out the windshield. He focused on the big fluffy snowflakes. They were starting to pile up quickly. It wouldn't be long before he'd have to brush Baby off, he guessed. Green eyes watched silently, unsure of what to say next. What did one say after unloading all that particular emotional baggage?

He thought back to his mother briefly. She'd know how to make this better. How to fix this. Wouldn't she? She was, after all, always the one telling him to just talk with Cas, let him in. He had brushed off her words, though. He closed his eyes as he felt the sting of his tears. He missed her horribly, and it was absurd to think that. She was with his dad in Heaven. He actually knew that, thanks to Cas. And she was happy up there. The pain grew in his chest again, and he let his forehead fall forward against the steering wheel.

This was not how Dean Winchester did things. This was not the Winchester way. What was he doing? Did he think crying and ranting to two women whose lives he had turned upside down would make it all better? It wouldn't. He deserved this. He deserved everything he got. He—

Inhaling sharply to quiet the voice inside his mind, he turned to glance at Jody through watery eyes. "I know. I know what you're going to say, Jody." He closed his eyes and turned away when his voice cracked. It was easier talking when he didn't see her eyes. He hated that look in people's eyes. "And I know you mean well, but it—it just _hurts_." He could feel his insides knotting further. "All the damn time. Nothing has ever—even when that dick killed Cas—it didn't hurt like this. You . . . you couldn't understand." His words then hit him like a freight train. He turned towards her anxiously, expecting to find anger on her face. He did, after all, just state she couldn't possibly know how hurt felt when she had been the one forced to watch her son eat her husband's face off. Damn it! He always said the wrong thing. Always!

He searched her face, trying to find any ounce of anger. He wouldn't blame her if she was. He had been stupid and forgot about how she had lost her family. He had been selfish, focused on himself. He found none, though. Understanding, he found lots of that. She was listening to every single stupid word he was saying. No judgment. No pity. Just understanding. The more she watched him, the more it became clearer to him. Damn, he was an idiot sometimes.

He huffed a joyless laugh as he stared back at her through tears. Jody was a mom. His mom. His and Sam's. She was there when Mary couldn't be. Like now. She was theirs, and she was right there sitting across from him just out of reach barely. Donna too.

Hesitating only briefly, he pushed aside the last sliver of his tattered pride. After all, what did it matter at this point really? He turned in his seat. A brief flicker of apprehension crossed his mind. What if he screwed this up as well and misinterpreted her maternal kindness? After all, she had her hands full with Claire, Alex, and Patience. No. He'd cross that bridge if he had to. He leaned forward a second later, hesitating again. This wasn't what Dean Winchester did! Who the hell was he even now? His head found her shoulder a moment later, and he buried his eyes into her flannel shirt that smelled like vanilla and bourbon.

When he realized she hadn't wrapped her arms around him fully, he began to pull back, only to find her embrace tighten instantly—letting him known it was okay. He must have taken her by surprise. This was the farthest thing from what he did, wasn't it? He usually ran from these things like a Wendigo hot on his trail or— He shuddered a breath, the tears starting to fall more frequently.

At the feel of Donna's hand rubbing his back soon after, he fought the losing battle of stifling more tears. He hated crying around others. Always had. A therapist would probably explain it was due to his toxic upbringing or some such garbage. It just was he didn't know how to handle this. Any of it. Give him a monster, and he'd kill it like that. Give him feelings, and he was screwed. But maybe it didn't need handling, he supposed. Maybe it just was.

Eventually, he recognized Donna's voice. She was saying something. Something that was probably soothing and kind, sympathetic even. But all he heard was the underlying strength the women were offering him. Letting him know that he wasn't alone right then. That he was loved. That baring one's soul to others wasn't as scary as it was made out to be.

Whether it was an eternity like it felt or seconds later, he shifted his head, moving his forehead to her shoulder. He blinked a few times to make sure the tears had finally stopped before he lifted his head up. He slid back gradually across the leather. "So, yeah," he said stiffly, moving back fully to his side as he wiped away any stray tears. "That's, um, that's all of it." He glanced away from them, feeling horribly uncomfortable.

"You haven't talked to him about any of this, have you?"

"There's never time."

"Baloney!" Donna exclaimed. "We might be fighting off another apocalypse, but there's always time for that. Can't just stop living, you know? There'll always be another baddie, another fight. It's why we got to rely on those we love to help us. Right, Jody?"

"I don't . . ." He sighed heavily, bringing his hand up again to rub at his forehead. This was why he hated crying. The stupid headache afterwards. Green eyes darted outside of the car as the silence filtered back in. He pressed his tongue against his left cheek and glanced upwards, trying to unscramble the words in his mind. The words that he should have said years ago. "I . . ." His voice cut out again as his mouth dried up faster than the desert. He chuckled darkly and shook his head before he glanced sideways at the ladies. "I can't get those words out to argue with you even."

Jody gave him a soft smile, reaching towards him and brushing the back of her hand against his cheek in a gesture so maternal that he almost cried again. "It's okay, Dean. You'll get there. Do you feel better at least?"

He shrugged back. "Yeah, other than the headache."

The ladies laughed softly and smiled knowingly at him.

He honestly didn't know what to do next. But he had to admit, yeah, he did feel a little bit lighter, less burdened even, which was something he hadn't felt in a really long time. He seemed . . . okay. His mind had finally stopped running from one thought to another, one escape plan to the next.

When he heard a soft, familiar jingle, he turned towards it, finding Donna holding out his keys. Finally! He reached for them with a smile. His smile dimmed, though, as she tugged the keys slightly, not fully releasing them into his expectant hand.

"We're going back to the bunker, right?" she asked, giving him a knowing look.

The bunker? Dean forced his smile. Yeah . . . "If I say 'Yes,' do I get my keys?"

She shrugged slightly, not releasing his keys. "We can either talk more on the way back or we can stay here, buried under the snow that'll have to be dealt with eventually."

He grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. Yeah. Neither option was exactly thrilling for him. Returning to the bunker would mean he'd have to deal with Sammy and Cas and their attitudes. Not that he honestly blamed them. He had been a world-class dick to them. But where else did that leave him to go? He didn't have the South Carolina excuse anymore. And he wasn't that stupid to think that the ladies wouldn't pull this again at the next stop. He sighed heavily and shook his head.

"I don't have any other options than the bunker, do I?"

Jody smiled warmly at him. "Not really, but at least you realize it."

Dean glanced down at the dashboard. What was he supposed to say exactly when they got back? This whole thing was out of his typical element. It was uncharted territories.

"I'm not really . . . I don't know what . . . I'm not good at this sort of thing."

"Obviously," Donna and Jody replied.

He stared at them for a moment. How was it possible that these were the same women who comforted him as he broke down? They had gone from comforting to mildly scolding in a matter of seconds. He bit back a laugh, shaking his head.

"What I mean is . . . back at the bunker, I . . ." He paused, his finger ghosting over Baby's steering wheel. "I was going crazy there. Going back . . . it . . . I had to get out of there."

"So we saw," Jody quipped with a raised brow.

"But like all good things, Dean," Donna remarked with an easy smile "this too must come to an end. So . . . bunker, yeah?" She then jerked her head. "After we deal with that mess of course?"

He chuckled quietly and sighed. "I suppose. If I have to." When they both leaned forward and slapped him upside the head, he yelped. "What the hell?"

Jody and Donna both smirked, though, as they calmly got out of the Impala.

He shook his head slowly before he stuck his keys in the ignition and started Baby up. His grin took over fiercely the second he heard her purr. He gently ran his fingers over her steering wheel.

"Let's get you all cleaned and back home where you belong," he quietly murmured. He joined the ladies a second later, using his jacket sleeve like the others to brush off the fluffy white powder.

"Did either of you know it was supposed to snow today?"

"No. But at this point," Jody shrugged, "I'm chalking it up to the impending apocalypse."

"Yeah." Dean frowned slightly, wondering if he should call Sammy to let him know about it. He decided, though, that his brother would know soon enough. After all, if it was snowing this hard here, he could only imagine what Lebanon looked like.

Once they had managed to get most of the snow off, they got back into the Impala.

"Bunker here we come." He couldn't keep the dread from his voice.

"Dean?" He paused in shifting Baby into drive and looked over at Jody. "No matter what happens, we're here for you. Whether that means demons, vamps, brothers, angels, lovers, or . . ." Jody hesitated, glancing towards Donna as she lost her train of thought.

"Or practicing how to say 'I'm sorry,' yeah?" Donna said, picking up easily. "All right?"

"I know." He gave them a somber smile. "And I appreciate it. But it's time to go home and face the music. I'm done running. At least for now."

Jody smiled. "I'm proud of you, Dean."

He wanted to feel like he deserved her praise. A smile teased its way to his lips but quickly fell away. "I don't know if I deserve that. I did run away after all." Like always.

"But you're going back now," Donna countered, leaning forward. "That takes a lot of courage. Running away is easy. Going back—that's not. It's hard."

"Funny," he remarked, glancing at the ladies, "I don't remember having a choice."

"There's always a choice, Dean," Jody stated. "And you're making the right one."

"Yep. So, if you want to start practicing how you're going to start the conversation, like if you should begin with 'I'm an idiot' or 'I'm an ass,' we're more than happy to give you our opinions. Right, Jodes?"

"Absolutely."

This time the smile didn't fall from Dean's lips. "Thank you for that. I very much value your input."

"Do you?" Jody asked before she glanced back at Donna. "Well, then, how about you explain the 'Freak Show' comment earlier?"

"Or the 'I drive everyone away," Donna added with a shrug.

Dean laughed nervously. "Hey, come on. I already had one shrink session with you two. Remember? I was a blubbering mess. So, let's save that for another day, all right?"

"Or we can talk about it until the bunker?"

His shoulder sagged.

"Fine." It wasn't as if the ladies would let that particular conversation die anyway. They were like hyenas on it.

As he pulled out of the gas station they had likely been at for at least an hour, he shook his head. They'd be heading back at a snail's pace thanks to the unexpected blizzard he now had to drive through. It'd be a long drive back even without the snow.

It had been awhile since he had prayed. Not since they had lost Jack the first time and Cas had gone up to Heaven to bring him back. But if it was snowing like this, he'd know even though they were fighting, the angel would be worried. And if he was going to be put through the emotional ringer more, then he'd at least let Cas know he was okay.

"_Cas, buddy, not sure if you even hear these anymore, but we're heading back now. We should be back about . . . five hours maybe. Just letting you know. Dean out."_

**A/N:** And, yes, there will be a third part... Coming soon. :)


End file.
